


Assorted Genosha Fics

by GalaxyRise489



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Erik is a Sweetheart, Genosha, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 15:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyRise489/pseuds/GalaxyRise489
Summary: This is my collection of unrelated Genosha centric fics. They aren’t a cohesive story but rather a collection of one shots, exploring my various headcanons.





	1. Chapter 1

1984: 

“Erik, this place is really coming together” Charles said as he rolled down the ramp of the X Jet. “Where exactly did you get all of these containers?” 

“Good to see you, old friend. And I got them from the ocean.” Erik said as if that was a completely logical answer. “Is there a reason for your visit?”

Charles didn’t have a reason really, other than wanting to visit.”It’s been a few months. Do I need a reason.” 

Erik knelt beside Charles’s chair “Of course not, I was just curious if this was a visit between friends or a meeting.” 

_ Let us retire to your house and I can show you what kind of visit. I feel that the other residents still do not like my presence.  _ Erik heard Charles in his head, and the other man had a grin.

“They don’t, lets go.” Erik started walking toward the single shipping container that was serving as his house for the time being. “I think I might have found something better to use as a house, I just need to get it at some point.” 

Charles wheeled swiftly after him, “Your house is perfectly suitable as it is, Erik.”

“Says the man who lives in a mansion.” Erik shot back, holding the door for Charles to enter. 

Charles shifted himself out of the chair and onto Erik’s bed “You’re always welcome there, Erik.”  _ Now get over here and kiss me  _ he added telepathically.

1986: 

Everything in Erik’s boat - Charles refused to call it a house- was at the perfect height for Charles. The bed was low enough that he could shift from his chair with ease. The table was just tall enough for him to fit under, and every shelf and countertop was perfectly within his reach. Erik was not a short man. None of this could be comfortable for him, but it was actually better accessible than the mansion. The mansion had been retrofitted in the 60’s to accommodate him, and clearly Erik had built the entire boat with him in mind. 

The next morning when Erik woke up, Charles was staring at him. 

“Why, Erik?”  _ Why for me?  _

The other man looked around the room, “Why wouldn’t I? How many years has it been Charles? Things have changed, but something that never will is that I still want you by my side.” 

Charles refused to let the tears fall “you know I can’t. The children. The school. I can’t leave them.” 

“So you’re leaving me instead? Again?” 

“You know I always come back Erik. And I know you enjoy being here, you’ve done an amazing job at creating a nation, and a respectable society, but you could always come back to the mansion.” Charles looked hopeful, and was practically forcing  _ pleasepleaseplease  _ into Erik’s mind. 

“One day, one of us will have to stand down, or we will be at this impasse forever.” 

Charles pulled himself out of bed and into his chair, “And one day one of us will, today is not that day, old friend.” 

An hour later Erik was alone again. 

1987: 

The feeling of a large metal presence in the area pulled Erik out of the purgatory between sleep and consciousness. Still drowsy he tried to reach out to feel the shape and design of the metal. The familiar feel of the x jet greeted him. 

Charles was back. 

Erik didn’t even bother with shoes or a shirt as he left out of the window and began toward the clearing that Charles frequently used as a landing area. “It’s been ten months!” He tried not to yell as he landed next to Charles. “No contact at all for ten months, Charles, I didn’t know what happened, if you were ok, if I was going to see you again. I nearly went to the mansion to make sure you were still alive.” 

Charles pushes a general feeling of calm towards Erik. “Old friend, you had nothing to worry about. And I wouldn’t have been at home, I’ve been away because I’ve been in New York City.” Charles pulled out a very official looking folder. “Securing this” 

Erik’s face betrayed his confusion. 

Charles offered the folder, and Erik took it cautiously. The golden seal of the United Nations stood stark against the black of the folder. “Is this?” 

“Open it Erik.” Charles suggested 

Erik opened the two sides of the folder carefully, as if they might explode, and then promptly dropped it on the ground. 

The paper inside the folder read 

**Resolution Adopted by the General Assembly on 30 August 1987**

**42/217**

**Recognition of the Nation of Genosha **

He couldn’t get any further into the document. “Charles? But how? I thought I was still classified as a terrorist internationally. And by the UN.” 

Charles smiled softly “That is why it took so long, I needed to get the United States to convince the UN that you were mostly harmless now, and that Genosha has been nothing but a peaceful society since it was formed.” He glanced at the paper still clutched in Erik’s hands “and eventually I was able to do so.” 

“Mostly harmless? I don’t think that’s even remotely true, and I think you’re keeping something about this from me.” Erik looked directly at Charles, his teeth clenched. 

“I told them I would be personally responsible for anything criminal or otherwise terroristic that they link to Genosha in the future. That seemed to be enough.”

Hours later, in the house, Erik laid his head against Charles’s chest and allowed the other man’s heartbeat to lull him to sleep. 

1990: 

Erik looked at the ring set in his hand, one black and rough, he could have smoothed it out and made it look more polished, but instead he just pulled a ring sized piece from the oldest helmet he had, the one he had been wearing that day on the beach, and roughly shaped it. The other was a classic gold ring, no designs, no inscription. Also hand made by him. The set was perfect for them. 

He looked at the man sleeping in his bed. The man who had shown him there was more to life than revenge, the man he would do anything for. 

Charles shifted awake, probably aware of Erik’s thoughts to some degree. “What are you looking at?” 

“You” Erik said almost shyly “I was thinking. I have my own nation. My own laws. I can decide what is ok, and what’s not.” 

That got Charles’s attention, “what have you done my friend?” His voice wavered a little as he sat up in the bed. 

“Nothing like what you’re thinking, Charles. I want to get married. It is legal here, well as of this morning when I made it legal. And I, uh, made us rings.” 

“Married? To me? Oh Erik, I want to say yes” he saw Erik’s face fall “no, I am saying yes, but how? I still cannot abandon the school, and I could never ask you to give up on Genosha.” 

Erik slid the darker ring, the one crafted from his helmet, onto Charles’s finger, “Then we continue in this way until we don’t have to. You visiting every so often, and when the other citizens ask why you are here again, I will tell them that my husband can visit as often as he wishes.” 

“Husband. Erik, my husband” he tested out the words and broke into a grin “will you be wearing one as well?” 

Erik revealed the other ring. “I will be.” He slid the ring onto his own hand “We can wear them when we are here, together, and I will keep them when we are apart.” 

Charles leaned up to kiss Erik “Putting your ring on will be the first thing I do every time I come here. And I will look forward to it every moment I am away.” 

1992: 

Charles went immediately to the drawer near Erik’s bed, their bed, and took out the small cloth pouch containing their rings. “We will never have to remove them again.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Erik looked at the rocky dirt in the early light of the pre-dawn. 

Levitating Charles via his chair had been working for the week but was clumsy and inconvenient. And demeaning to Charles. 

When he offered Charles a home he neglected to consider the reality of the home he was offering. 

Genosha was a retreat and a refuge for mutants, but it had been built without Charles Xavier in mind for rather obvious reasons. Erik was nourishing and cultivating a mutant colony in the same was Charles had been at the school. Maybe not exactly the same way, but close enough. But there were no lifts, no ramps and no paved paths between the clusters of buildings. 

There were over three dozen unused shipping containers in a field, Erik had planned to use them for future housing, but he had better plans now. 

The first container rose into the air, flattened, then attached itself to the outside of his own shipping container home, where he knew Charles was sleeping. The second folded itself into a twisting ramp to the entrance. 

Inside the container that he was sharing with Erik, Charles was shaken awake by the screeching of metal. He grabbed a pillow from Erik’s predictably empty side of the bed and put it over his head. 

Container after container contorted, attaching to various buildings around the compound. Some closer and some further away, varying in volume. Charles decided he wasn’t going to get to sleep and pulled himself into his chair. When he rolled out onto the new balcony, he saw Erik putting the last of the former containers into place. 

As the sun rose over the trees Erik admired the newly wheelchair accessible community of Genosha, spread his arms, and joined Charles on the balcony. 


	3. Chapter 3

Erik stood in front of the mirror glaring. As if he could scare the tufts of white hair back into his head. Perhaps it had been coming in for a while and he just hadn’t noticed it. But Charles would have, and would not have missed the opportunity to make fun of him for getting old. Did he really go to bed last night normal and wake up today with half his hair gone white? He pulled at a particularly awful white streak near his right temple. Maybe he could pull it all out. Or dye it? He was 67 years old, after all, even if he still looked decades younger than that. 67 year old men had white hair. It was common. It was better than losing his hair, not that there was anything wrong with being bald. Just that he and Charles would look ridiculous if they were both bald. Though he looked ridiculous right now. With all this white hair. If he just wore his helmet all the time, no one could see his hair. That might be a workable plan. Go back to being Magneto all the time. Charles wouldn’t like that. Ok, new plan then. 

“Erik, is everything ok?” Charles said opening the door and wheeling in. 

“Yes!” Erik said covering his hair with both hands. “Fine.” 

Charles raised an eyebrow  _ then why are your hands on your head _

“No reason” Erik replied, inadvertently sending Charles multiple images of his white streaks. 

“Oh, Erik, I’m sure it doesn’t look anywhere near as bad as you think, let me take a proper look.” He motioned removing his hands from his head.

Erik slowly removed him hands and closed his eyes. He did not want to see the look on Charles’s face when he saw the hair, it would be pity no doubt. 

“Not pity, Erik. It looks…” Charles paused looking for the right words “incredible. And dignified. Come here.” 

Erik knelt. 

Charles ran his hair appreciatively through Erik’s hair, as he had done hundreds of time. “If you can manage to love me bald, I can certainly love you with white hair, Erik.” 

Erik grinned, “I do miss your hair sometimes.” 

That earned him a playful slap. And a kiss. Maybe he could deal with having white hair. 


	4. Chapter 4

Was there really a point of having your own independent society if there are no… amenities? In a series of backroom meetings, he and Charles had secured the agreement of the United States to grant a portion of land to him, for Mutants to live on. It did have a bit of a “separate but equal” feel to it at the beginning, an island for only Mutants. No humans, certainly no human politicians. And he had been assured that if everything went well, something Charles said meant “no mutant attacks”, Genosha could be accepted into the UN within a decade. And then Charles had stopped communicating, three years since he last saw his friend. And from what he could gather on his trips back to society, “separate but equal” wasn’t too far off. Charles was achieving legend status, hero status, and he was hidden away, happy, but hidden, on his island. 

The years after incorporation had gone relatively well. Any mutant attacks were not linked to Genosha, and Erik had done a decent job, in his own opinion, at setting up the society. The whole world seemed to have a live and let live attitude about Magneto and his mutant society. While they put Charles on the covers of magazines, and had Galas for Charles and his X-Men, the X-Men Erik helped form, even if no one wanted to remember that. And even if almost all of those X-Men were dead now. 

Erik didn’t know much about distilling spirits, but with all the time in the world, he figured he could make it work. And thus started his whiskey making business. Except it wasn’t a business because he wasn’t selling it, he was drinking it. And no one really sold things in Genosha, everything was in more of a trade and barter society. 

By the time that Jean Grey came to Genosha and caused the first conflict the society had ever seen, he had nearly perfected whiskey making. And when Hank McCoy came shortly after, he had bottled his first batch. But he didn’t share. 

No, sharing didn’t come until he had, for some reason, once again forgiven Charles and been forgiven by him in return. After Charles had been forced from his home, his school, his entire life, by McCoy. And that was not the worst of it. When he went to speak to Charles after the conflict with Jean, who’s name the school now carried, he was informed bluntly that Charles had retired. A stiff glare caused a young student to say “He went to Paris Mister Magneto Sir.” 

Erik destroyed the schools new sign on the way out. And went to Paris. And brought Charles home. 

Erik was proud of his whiskey, and was proud to show it to Charles. And it was strong enough that Charles was able to get drunk enough to forget. And that was all that either of them wanted at the moment. To forget the past 30 years. And to move forward together.


End file.
